Waiting in the wings for her first cue, the pretty Viennese soprano vibrated like a violin string. Back in Vienna, she had heard that the Metropolitan was a harsh house, so big that a singer could not move around onstage without sacrificing her voice. The hallowed ghosts of the Met were all around her. How would she measure up to the great Gildas of the past—Sembrich, Melba, Galli-Curci?
That November night, in the first performance of the Met's new Rigoletto (TIME, Nov. 26), blonde Hilde Gueden overcame her nervousness and measured up right to...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
